


Your Love is a Waiting Game

by MeganWrites



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 08:55:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2645870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeganWrites/pseuds/MeganWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian reads somewhere that falling in love is a slow process. It starts one day and you barely notice, slowly building and collecting as days pass until one day it really hits you and you’re completely unprepared. Because those kinds of big moments, the ones that really effect you and rock your world, are never the ones you see coming.</p><p>He’s not really sure what he thinks of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Love is a Waiting Game

**Author's Note:**

> No idea how I feel about this and I don't even know where it came from but.... here you go, enjoy my jumble of words. Title from Waiting Game by Banks.

Ian reads somewhere that falling in love is a slow process. It starts one day and you barely notice, slowly building and collecting as days pass until one day it really hits you and you’re completely unprepared. Because those kinds of big moments, the ones that really effect you and rock your world, are never the ones you see coming.

He’s not really sure what he thinks of that.

 

 

-

 

 

Ian hears the door of the Kash N’ Grab swing open and looks hopefully. Mickey is trudging in like it’s any other day and Ian almost half expects him to walk over, tap on the counter with a filthy grin and say “break time, Firecrotch.” Except it isn’t any other day and this time he stands in front of the door as it bangs shut and doesn’t say a word. He stares at Ian for a long gap of time, his expression is unreadable but Ian almost prefers it that way. He doesn’t want to know if Mickey is irritated or angry because he’s just glad Mickey is here. Mickey lifts his hand, rubbing his thumb at the corner of his mouth idly, his gaze stays solidly on Ian making the air seem thick and heavy. There’s a weight to this moment that Ian never expected share with Mickey.

Mickey suddenly turns reaching back for the door and Ian almost panics. He doesn’t know what he would do if Mickey left because right now (for a reason Ian isn’t even sure he knows) he just needs Mickey so badly. Instead of leaving Mickey locks the door, and Ian feels relief washing over him. Mickey walks back to Ian and reaches down, his fingers grazing on the underside of Ian’s wrist and heel of his palm, seeming to be toying with the idea of moving just a little further down.

Ian’s never wanted anything from Mickey before, and suddenly all he really wants is to hold Mickey’s hand.

Mickey instead grips Ian’s wrist and tugs at his arm, directing him to the backroom and muttering, “C’mon.”

Later Ian does hold Mickey’s hand. Pounding into him and breathing hotly on his neck, Ian can’t help himself from reaching out to cover Mickey’s small and calloused hand with his own. Mickey doesn’t pull away and somehow it feels like winning and losing at the same time.

 

 

-

 

 

“Too fuckin' hot out,” Mickey tilts his head and spits loudly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in a way that should be disgusting. It’s not. Somehow Ian finds everything Mickey does to be endearing. Mickey snorts when he sees Ian still leaning against the chain fence, fucked out and breathing heavily. “You doing alright, Gallagher?”

Ian shakes his head and closes his mouth, trying to steady himself and regain some normalcy. Except, fuck, he forgot how much Mickey fucked him up. “Just getting used to this again.”

“That your faggy way of saying you missed me?”

Mickey’s smirking like he knows, like he almost wants to hear it, but Ian knows better than that. He knows how this game is played.

“Missed your ass, maybe.”

Mickey parts his lips, pushing his tongue to the corner of his mouth as he runs his eyes over Ian’s body. Ian shivers with the intensity of his gaze. “Yeah, just getting used to this,” Mickey says, his voice is rough and low enough that Ian isn’t sure he meant to say it.

Ian tries not to think about it, then ends up thinking too much about it.

 

 

-

 

 

Ian’s dragging his feet and his eyes are barely open by the time he reaches the Kash N’ Grab. Mickey is already waiting outside, leaning against the locked door and smoking a cigarette. He pushes off from the shop as Ian approaches and scowls, “the fuck you get here so late for?”

Ian wonders if this is one of those times that Mickey will ask a question without really want an answer, but decides he is actually too tired and too angry to give a shit. “Lip’s a fucking dick,” Ian growls as he unlocks the door and makes his way inside the dark shop.

Mickey snorts loudly and snubs the remainder of his cigarette as he follows Ian inside. “Yeah, big fuckin' surprise.”

Ian frowns and sighs deeply as he counts the cash, “No, I mean Lip is a huge fucking pretentious douchebag asshole and I’m done with his fucking ‘better than you’ bullshit.”

Mickey cocks an eyebrow and circles around the counter to stand by Ian. “This gotta do with all that army shit he was helping you with?” Mickey drops two bottles of beer on the counter next to Ian, twisting open one for himself and taking a drink.

Ian looks up at Mickey and back to the drink waiting for him on the counter. This is one of those rare moments that Ian can never wrap his head around, even though they’ve been becoming more common since Mickey started working at the Kash N’ Grab. It’s not like it was before with Mickey, with the ‘fuck and fuck off’ attitude. Sometimes Ian almost feels like their something more, like Mickey kind of likes hanging out with him and talking to him. He often wonders if this is what it would feel like to have a real, genuine boyfriend.

“A bit,” Ian answers sullenly though he can already feel his spirits beginning to lift as he reaches to steal Mickey's beer from his hand, chugging half the drink in one go. Mickey scowls but lets it be, simply reaches for the other beer on the counter. Ian blinks rapidly and runs a hand over his face, “it just pisses me off and I barely got any sleep last night just thinking about it.”

“Yeah, man, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

Ian shrugs, picking at the label on his nearly empty bottle.

“You can go sleep in the back if you want, I’ll cover you.” Mickey speaks like it’s the most casual thing in the world but when Ian looks up he can see a light tinge of pink on Mickey’s cheeks.

“You sure?”

Mickey’s chewing at his lower lip and focusing on his beer bottle as he nods. He’s nervous and Ian thinks it’s probably one of the sweetest moments Ian’s ever lived. He holds himself in place, halting the overwhelming desire to wrap Mickey up in a hug, or even worse – kiss him.

“Okay,” Ian says softly and stands, shuffling past Mickey as he makes his way to the back. “Uhm, thanks, Mick.”

Mickey shrugs and looks over at Ian with a cocky grin, “just means you owe me later.”

 _Anything you want,_ Ian’s mind supplies but instead he just repeats himself; “okay.”

 

 

-

 

 

Mickey looks so good pressed against the brick wall, tucked away in an alley somewhere a few blocks from where Mickey had all but knocked out Ned. He’s letting out little breathy moans and gasps as Ian steadily tugs at his cock, clutching Ian’s side possessively with one hand and returning the favour with the other. Ian is panting into the bare skin of his shoulder, he can feel his orgasm building and starts to jerk Mickey faster and earning a string of whispered curse words. It isn’t long before Mickey is shuddering as he comes in Ian’s hand, Ian tumbles after him a minute later gasping and pressing closer to Mickey as he rides it out.

Ian breathes in shakily and moves to step back but is stopped by Mickey’s hands gripping Ian’s biceps and holding him in place. Mickey drops his head, resting his forehead against Ian’s chest as his breathing becomes less erratic. Ian doesn’t say a word, it’s an incredibly intimate gesture for Mickey and he knows how rare that is.

He’s almost okay with that as well, nearly let’s Mickey just hold on to him, but something about that day has made Ian brave. Ian moves quickly, wrapping his arms around Mickey’s waist, bending to the shorter height and pulling him in closely.

“Gallagher,” Mickey grunts and Ian can already hear him beginning to protest.

Ian shakes his head and holds onto Mickey tighter, burying his head at the base of Mickey’s neck. “Just let me, please,” Ian whispers against his skin.

Mickey stays frozen for a moment, but he hasn’t shoved Ian off or run away which is more than Ian expected. Then Mickey is moving, one hand resting on Ian’s back and the other combing through his short hair. It doesn’t last long before Mickey is shoving him away and acting like they hadn’t just shared a more intimate moment than Ian’s ever had with anyone.

Except Mickey has a little smile on his lips for the rest of the day and Ian’s sure he has a matching one.

 

 

-

 

 

Gunshots echo through the shambles of the old building. Ian lifts the cigarette perched between his fingers to his lips and takes a long drag. He feels fucked out and happy, his shirt is still sitting somewhere on the ground where is was thrown and his jeans are still undone and carelessly pulled up. Ian exhales slowly as he eyes Mickey standing in front of him, shooting a gun and wearing just as little clothing as Ian. It’s a sight so delicious that Ian’s dick is putting up a valiant effort to get hard again.

Mickey fires a few more shots, he hits most of the targets but Mickey can rarely ever keep his arms as stiff as they need to be so his shot tends to be a little to the left every time. Ian can’t help noticing it after so many years in ROTC. He mentioned it to Mickey once, offering to help him perfect his aim and only to have Mickey tell him that he could ‘fuck off with this preschool army bullshit.’ Ian’s kept all his advice about shooting to himself since then.

 Mickey finishes shooting and turns to Ian, spitting on the ground and sauntering back over to where he is seated against the wall.

“Out of ammo?”

Mickey nods and spits again, “not bad though, huh?” He nods at the target and looks back at Ian with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Ian looks at the target and shrugs, focusing back on his cigarette. “Yeah, not bad.”

Mickey snorts and bends over to put the gun down where their tossed aside sweaters and shirts have collected in a pile. Ian tilts his head taking the opportunity to admire Mickey’s perfect, round ass. Fuck, Ian would never be able to get enough of that ass. Mickey stands up and grins wickedly at Ian. “Liar, you think that’s shit.”

Ian laughs and shrugs, “I wouldn’t say its total shit, just not – uh.” His words are cut off when Mickey suddenly drops in between Ian’s legs, shuffling until his back is flush to Ian’s chest. Ian’s frozen, his arms dangling uselessly at his side as Mickey rests against him like he’s a large, cozy armchair. Is Mickey trying to… cuddle?

“Gallagher,” Mickey cuts through his thoughts. “Pull it together.”

Ian swallows and tries to clear his mind, “Uhm, yeah, just not bad.”

Mickey turns his head, looking up at Ian through thick dark lashes and he plucks the cigarette from Ian’s fingers and takes a drag. “The walls are hard and I’m not wearing a fucking shirt,” Mickey offers as an explanation. “Stop acting like a fuckin' vegetable now.”

Ian feels like he’s in a daze as he smiles down at Mickey. He doesn’t mention how the wall isn’t that hard, or how Ian doesn’t have a shirt either, instead he just wraps his arms around Mickey’s middle and hooks his chin over Mickey’s shoulder. He briefly catches Mickey biting back a smile and sucking on the filter. Ian feels like he’s walking on air, Mickey always seems to have that effect on him, making him feel more than he knows he should but Ian just can’t help it. He feels like he’s dangling over the edge of a cliff, like he could slip and fall at any point now and is just barely holding with the tips of his fingers. He knows with Mickey these feelings will never be realistic, he knows exactly what they are and what they never will be.

But moments like these making it so fucking easy to pretend there could be something _more_.

“Your arms are shaky still,” Ian murmurs into the quiet.

Mickey snickers and rests back more heavily against Ian, closing his eyes and smiling, “yeah, yeah. And you’ll show me how to fix it sometime.”

"Yeah."

Ian never wants to stop pretending with Mickey.

 

 

-

 

 

Mickey’s eyelids flicker when he dreams, sometimes he’ll mutter soft words Ian can’t actually hear, and when he moves it’s only to bury himself even closer to Ian. He looks so beautiful like this, relaxed, happy, and unguarded. Ian reaches a hand up, running his fingers lightly over Mickey’s forehead, then around to his cheeks, along his nose, tracing the shape of his soft pink lips. Ian wants to kiss him again and again, he can’t get enough of it since the first kiss in the van – addicted to the taste of Mickey’s mouth.

Mickey hums in his sleep and wearily blinks open his eyes. His eyes adjust to the light slowly, the vibrant blue of his irises is Ian’s favorite shade. Mickey pupils finally focus and he smiles lazily, still sleepy and vulnerable.

“Hey you,” he whispers and reaches up to gently hold Ian’s wrist, rubbing his thumb in small circles on the underside.

And fuck, Ian loves him so fucking much. It’s not like anything else, not like when he thought he loved Kash, or the kind of love he has for his siblings or Mandy, this is… _the_ love. It’s the love that people write songs and poems about, so intense and so pure that if Ian believed in soulmates he would say this is it. He is so fucking in love with Mickey and there isn’t even the slightest amount of doubt in his mind.

Mickey lifts Ian’s hand a presses a kiss to his palm, as if it isn’t causing Ian’s heart to beat a thousand times faster, as if Ian’s world didn’t just spin completely off its axis.

“Hey,” Ian chokes out the words.

Mickey closes his eyes again, breathing deeply, “stop thinking so much.”

Ian smiles and pulls Mickey closer, nodding against his bare skin, “alright.”

 

 

-

 

 

Ian’s gripping two new sets of clothing in his hands, standing outside the bathroom and watching as Mickey cleans his cuts and dried blood with a damp cloth. He doesn’t see Ian watching him, too focused on what he’s doing but Ian almost prefers it that way. After so many months without Mickey and so long waiting for this… just having him here and having him completely, Ian is fine with just watching him for as long as he can. Mickey catches Ian in the mirror and turns around, he isn’t smiling when Ian steps forward, he just looks so tired.

Ian takes his face in his hands and gently kisses him on both cheeks, his forehead, the tip of his nose, his chin and finally his lips. He pulls backs and just stares at Mickey, taking in the beautiful boy who stormed into his life one day and Ian never even saw it coming. Ian kisses him once more and close his eyes as Mickey pulls him into a tight hug, burying his face in Ian’s neck. It kind of hurts Ian’s ribs but he honestly doesn’t care, not as long as Mickey is in his arms.

Ian holds Mickey close and thinks about how he’s probably been in love with Mickey his whole life.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr :)](http://meganwwrites.tumblr.com)


End file.
